


Stranger

by TripleT (MiloBettany)



Series: Coven of the Triple T- Henry Cavill Edition [1]
Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: F/M, Running, Sex in the woods, anon written ofc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:34:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22646494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiloBettany/pseuds/TripleT
Summary: OFC meets HC in the woods. Possibilities over possibilities arise.
Relationships: Henry Cavill/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Coven of the Triple T- Henry Cavill Edition [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1629073
Kudos: 22





	1. Part One

It all started with a run. Running around in circles in a forest while the thick morning mist clogs someone's nostrils isn’t the most pleasing activity but some people seem to get off on it. 

For example, that tall specimen running around her. Those shorts shouldn’t be this tight. The well-defined hamstrings visibly screaming for some relief with every wide step the thick legs take. 

It was his fifth round around the small patch of trees where she sits on a bench, the sore legs still shaking after her attempt to get her 13k down. Her water bottle is already empty and the burn of her lungs subsides slowly but recognizably. She is so undeniably unfit, it is embarrassing. She can hear him coming long before his figure speeds around the trunk of the tree, marking another corner. 

She knows who he is. Recognized his face rounds ago. Schooling her face to stay indifferent and keeping her eyes in check while he passes her was a good distraction from the screaming pain in her body. 

But then it happens. He lifts his gaze and meets hers, the greenish-blue fixed on her, while he passes again just to disappear behind the next tree. 

Oh, that was awkward, she thinks and tries to remember how long it would take him to pass her again. Enough to simply disappear or would she have to face him while trotting back to the street. 

The universe answers her question a few moments later with a startling crack behind her and the sound of heavy breathing coming closer before a heavy thumb shakes the bench. 

“Okay, would you please just ask?”, the well-known voice mumbles, awkwardness and a mild annoyance audible for an even untrained ear.

Her eyes won’t come further than the dark stubbles covering the sharp line of his jaw. The rising morning sun glistens in the tiny beads of sweat. Suddenly she has the urge to just lick over his face. 

He is still staring at her, the verbal annoyance slowly creeping into his mime while the thick eyebrow rises higher with every second. With an irritated blink, she cleans her throat and meets his eyes. “The fuck?”

With a surprised snort, he laughs that his whole body shakes. He is not laughing at her, she realizes after a few moments of shaky shoulders and rough hands running through his lightly pale face. With an unplaceable sigh, he rubs his red eyes and grins. “I’m sorry, that was rude. I seriously thought you’d stalk me.”, he explains. The tired voice is rough and truly apologetic. 

“A bit full of ourselves, aren’t we?”, she mumbles and stares at the wet grass in front of her, ashamed of her own snarkiness. She can see why he thought she’d stalk him. She wanted to apologize immediately but since he wasn’t giving an audible reaction she feared his visual expression. 

She counted until thirty and slowly turned her head in his direction again, expecting an angry glare or something. Instead, he still sat there, slumped back, head in his neck and simply enjoying the rising sun softly kissing his cheekbones. 

It fascinates her. How can someone with such firm features look so soft and nearly fluffy at the same time, she thinks and simply ignores that the person to her right slowly opens an eye, obviously observing her. “Pardon me?”, it rumbles next to her. 

“Didn’t say a thing.”, she snarls and turns her head away from him, stares pointedly to her left. 

He chuckles and the light clothing rustles as he moves. “So, tell me. You are here often?”, he asks. 

She looks back at him, surprised to see him comfortably leaned over his thighs, the elbows resting on them. “Do you really care?”, she asks, wiggling uncomfortably on her seat as he huffs and shakes his head. Not a negation, more a sign of disbelief towards the whole situation. He leans his head back a bit and looks her over. 

There is nothing predatory in his observation. His eyes are clearly appreciating, no question, but there is still this softness in his gaze, in his fond smile as he clears his throat and straightens his back. 

His chest is massive, she notices. The well-proportioned pecs clearly visible under the thin mesh of his light blue shirt. His relaxed arms are thicker than her own head. Being held by him must feel glorious. 

The closer she musters his figure, the more her annoyance and irritation seep out of her body. She can feel the last bit of tension leaving her muscles as the soreness gives way to something else. Something warm and fluffy in her gut that wanders slowly lower as her eyes register his hands. Not so small at all, she thinks and notices the neatly trimmed fingernails. 

“So, what type are you? Coffee or tea?”, he asks further, his nonchalant confidence a bit wonky.

Her eyes wander further, over the tightly stretched fabric of his shorts to the more than appealing bulge of his groin. “I’m more a dick kinda type…”, she mumbles. 

It is the hot feeling of iced water running down her back that gets her out of her thoughts. No, that was clearly nothing she wanted to say out loud. She can feel the color leaving her face as she lifts her shocked gaze to prepare for a rough backlash. 

All she gets is a pair of surprised raised eyebrows and full lips lightly open from disbelief. 

“I’m so sorry.”, she says and lifts her hands in defense. “I am an utter idiot and my day is already shitty and I am tired and my legs hurt and….” She takes a deep breath and closes her mouth. 

He follows her suit, knitting his brows while biting his lower lip in thoughts. 

The sound of cars disturbs their morning solitude as he slowly turns closer. “I would like to have coffee with you, but I wouldn’t be opposed to some…” He stops in thoughts again, carefully weighing the words on his tongue. 

It takes her a few seconds until she realizes what he is offering. Her heartbeat speeds up in a panic. That is too much opportunity for one day. Actually everything about this situation is too much right now and she really has no inclination to deal with the aftermath of what is to crush down on her if she allows him to talk further. 

“That’s very kind of you!”, she splurts as he takes another breath to finish his sentence. 

Irritated by the interruption he pauses and observes her confused as she jumps up, presses her bottle to her chest and starts to rush off. “Nice talking to you, Sir.”, she babbles and runs off. 

A mildly hurt “okay” is everything she hears as she rounds around the big tree, framing the small path to the street.

  
  
  
  



	2. Part Two

It took her three days, an appointment in a beauty salon, a close inspection of his Instagram to make sure he was not in town and a pep talk by her therapist to pick up her exercise. She planned to never see him again. Neither on the screen nor in real life. How can someone just be so fucked up? He wanted to have fricking coffee with her, for god’s sake!

While slowly jogging down a hill she broods over the incident, still trying to find out what the hell is wrong with her. 

It’s a cold day and typically moist for the region although the sun climbs steadily over the treetops a few miles away. With every step she takes her mind slows down and calms until she falls in a meditative state. There is nothing more than the regular vibration of her steps through her legs and the matching breathing. 

Suddenly everything is silent and clear, her body falling in a satisfying rhythm. 

That is until something brushes her shoulder. Irritated she looks to her left, connects her gaze with a pair of smiling eyes. “Good morning, stranger!” chimes a happy voice.

Shook by the startle she nearly trips. A strong hand grabs her upper arm and forces her back into a steady step. 

“The fuck, Cavill!”, she yells flustered, stares up at him, not apologetic about her foul mouth. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

He raises an eyebrow, smirks satisfied and falls in her rhythm, his hand leaving her upper arm. “I’m happy to see you too!”

With a disgruntled mime, she mimics his words, a happy laugh is the only response. 

“Where have you been?”, he asks genuinely interested, still smiling as he would enjoy her presence honestly. 

“I could ask you the same. Are you not expected somewhere else?”, she shoots back, trying to not stare at his moving legs, the prominent bulge of his groin in those ridiculous shorts. He is a piece of art, indeed. Annoying but beautiful, no matter what form he takes.

He simply chuckles and sighs heart-wrenchingly. “Why are you so mean? If you want me to leave you alone just say it. Really. No hard feelings. I’d just love to get to know you, grab a coffee or go out for dinner. I don’t mean to pressure you into something…”, he says light-heartedly, looking down at her every few words. Not to belittle her, he is just that tall next to her. 

His open statement makes a wave of guilt wash over her. Her irritation always led to mean words and defensiveness. Maybe this time she should try to get out of her comfort zone. 

“I’m sorry…”, she mumbles and throws a short, insecure look up at him. 

“Apology accepted!”, he smiles and looks around them, plainly enjoying the sight as the road takes them downhill. “It is an awesome morning, isn’t it?”

She just nods, too busy observing his feet stomping on the ground while he walks, hardly having any difficulties with breathing. 

“Can I ask you something and getting an actual answer to that?”, he asks, giving her a calculating gaze. She nods again, embarrassed to acknowledge the rudeness she threw at him. 

“Do you have a boyfriend or something?”

The question looms heavy between them while the irritation thickens again in her guts. There are a few answers she would shot at him, but she promised to actually answer his question so there is just one simple word sufficient. “No.”

“Perfect.” He nods satisfied, a small genuine smile on his lips.

“Not the word I would use.”, she grunts and follows him to the left, on a mossy path that leads them into the woods. 

Usually, she would be concerned. Seriously concerned and ready to kick in his throat, but as soon as the trees swallowed them he brings some distance between them, his arm not brushing against her shoulder anymore. The intention clear to not restrict her in her movements. 

“What word would you use?”, he asks. His voice now lower as he concentrates on the path in front of them, careful not to slip on the moos or trip over roots or sticks. 

“Frustrating.”, she mumbles, also mindful of her steps. 

He hums and slows down, falls in a comfortable walk. She slows down too and looks at him surprised. He seems to obviously think about her statement. He is thinking so hard that his teeth start to grind what pronounces the muscles in his jaw. 

Abruptly he comes to a stop and puts his hands in the pockets of his shorts, a clear sign to be as unthreatening as possible. 

“Let me be frank.” His voice is stern and the soft eyes harden noticeably. He is clearly bracing for a backlash. She pauses, curious about what comes next. 

“You know me, you at least have an idea what my life is like at the moment. I am sure it is obvious that a relationship in any serious regard is kinda impossible right now.” He stares at her with intent, waiting for her to interrupt him. She says nothing, so he takes a deep breath. “I…”

“I would like to fuck you.” It is blunt as a butter knife. She knew what he was going to when he tried to put his actual situation in perspective. In the short seconds he spoke she contemplated her options and possibilities and yes, wouldn’t that be nice?

Looking like a cow he blinks a few times, slightly slumped over, hands still in his pockets. 

Slowly she takes a step closer, another one until she can reach his chest. Carefully she lays her hand on it, feeling the deep vibrations of his heartbeat. They stare at each other for a moment. 

The tension becomes palpable as none of them moves. It feels like a single twitch of any muscle could make the situation combust in drama. 

“Fuck…”, he growls. It’s is a matter of seconds and the hands are out of their pockets, grabbing her buttocks firmly as his body crashes against her. Lips colliding brutally, combined with scrapping teeth and fighting tongues as they stumble into the bushes, against trees, and over stones. With a muffled thump he leans her against the thick trunk of a tree, hunches down a bit to invade her space fully before lifting her up. 

Her hands are roaming over firm muscles, sweaty skin, and raw stubbles as she tries to take any aspect of his body in, to get an orientation of his substance. 

They hold still for a moment, staring in each other’s eyes while sharing moist air. Moving in slow motion he unzips one pocket of his running jacket, slips his hand in, accompanied by the chime of keys and the rustling of plastic before it appears again with the small package of a condom in it. 

He holds it between them like a gift, something precious. 

“You were so sure about it?”, she asks amused and takes the package carefully out of his fingers. And there it is, the sweet blush of shame and self-consciousness she hoped for. “Not quite...Just hopeful.”, he whispers and leans closer, brushes the tip of his nose against her before breathing a light kiss on her lips. 

The sudden sweetness confuses her. It stands in stark contrast to what they are about to do. Suddenly she feels chilly and nervous. His lips wander over her cheeks, where they cover her ear with hot breath. Shuddering under goosebumps she claws her free hand in his shoulder. What if she is too heavy and he can’t hold her up any longer? What if he changes his mind mid-game and she reacts like usual and makes an ass of herself? 

“Stop thinking.”, he growls while he leans back a bit, throws her legs over his shoulders.She can feel his hands brush over her cheeks, savoring the firm fabric of her leggings stretched over her muscles before he hooks his fingers in the waistband and pulls it down, to expose her lower section enough to make any mischief possible. 

Flustered by the sudden coolness she shivers involuntarily and looks shocked at him. He answers her gaze, a sly smile on the reddened lips as he looks down between them invitingly. 

Her eyes still fixed on him her hand wanders down his chest and abdomen, acknowledging every bit of muscle under the fabric until she slips her hand fearless under the waistband of his shorts. 

To feel that hot flesh between her fingertips is a relieving shock. The smooth thickness pulsing in synchronization with his stuttering breaths as she tries to get a good feel of his assets. 

He leans closer, pushes her harder against the trunk to support her weight. “Please don’t play around too long.”, he whispers in the crock of her neck, splaying his hands over her cheeks to hold her up more comfortable. “This all is a bit too exciting.” 

She can’t suppress the laughter, tries to muffle it with her teeth biting lightly down his thick shoulder as she frees his impatient pulsing member from its cage. A deep moan tickles her skin as the cold hits him. With a firm stroke of her hand, she tries to apologize, massaging the base firmly while she rips open the foil and fumbles the thin sleeve out of the package. 

Few practiced movements later and the dick is dressed according to protocol. Its owner straightens his back, looks down at her as he angles his hips closer, getting a feel for the whereabouts. With a pleased smile, he brushes his length between her lips, sighs deeply as her wetness coats the latex. 

“I’m glad to not be the only excited one here.”, he mocks and brushes his nose against her, spreads her cheeks a bit to get better access. 

She is mushy, mushy and dizzy. It has been a while and his soft forwardness dulls any doubts and concerns. She just wants that thing inside her. There is nothing more to say. With an impatient flick of her tongue, she grabs between them, leads his hardness between her lips. “If sir might consider…”, she sighs with a sharp tug at his flesh. 

Then there is both. A harsh tongue attacking her mouth in the rhythm of thick flesh splitting her open. His moans threaten to smother her as he sets a hard beat. Every thrust pushes the air out of her lungs while trapped between his body and the tree. 

He is deep, deep and hard and merciless in his movements. She is getting deaf from all the pressure onto her body. Not sure if she is screaming, no idea who owns the sweaty locks between her clawing hands. Are those teeth nagging her throat?

The pleasure creeping its way through her body is a hot thing, gripping harsh at her guts as he aims deeper. His stubbles rub against her cheek, blunt fingernails piercing the skin of her buttocks while spreading them even wider. 

“God, you are so fucking tight!”, he growls in her ear, catching the thin skin of the lobe between his teeth. “So good…”

She has lost her words, there is just “Please…” and “God” and “Fuck…” and then there is nothing. No tree scratching her back, no wet coolness at her butt. Just heat drowning her. Sweeping her brains blank as she can feel his last thrusts before liquid hotness spreads in her belly. 

Both become still, breathing in a shared pace while he pulses the last of him into her. His legs are shaking, she can feel the muscles in his arms twitching. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, the words slurred like he was drunk. He leans their foreheads together, stares at her intensively, searching for something she has no idea of. A simple nod is the only answer he gets. He smiles. It feels like the sun is blinding her as he straightens again, not losing eye contact as he pulls out carefully. 

Slowly he pulls her leggings up as far as possible, then positions her legs one by one on his hips before making her stand on her own feet. 

She takes him in while leaning at the tree. His nearly fully deflated member hangs out of his waistband, the copiously filled condom dangerously close to making a mess on his shorts. With blushed cheeks, he unzips the pocket of his jacket on the other side, gets some tissues out and takes care of the danger with seemingly practiced movements. 

Putting the waste in his pocket and the glistening flesh back in the shorts he is still heavy breathing and getting redder by the second. 

“Well…”, he starts and looks nervously at her. 

“That escalated quickly!”, she finishes his statement, feeling lazy and sated, pleased by his abashed demeanor. There is nothing cocky about him now, with his fumbling hands, that shy smile, obviously not having a clue where to go from here. 

“I’d like some coffee now!”, she states, feeling suddenly a rush of happiness, the endorphins clearly doing their work. 

“Coffee! Yes! Good idea!”, he nearly shouts, clearly grateful to get something to focus on. 

“But first I’d like to get a hug!”, she demands, steps closer and tackles his torso, arms wrapped tightly around his lightly shivering body. It is a sigh of relief as he follows suit, pulls her even closer and rests his cheek on top of her head. 

So they stay for a moment, just breathing in a shared rhythm, synching their heartbeats while the forest gets louder and the sound of cars rushes past them. 

“That was awesome”, he mumbles after a while and rubs a spread hand steadily over her back. 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself.”, she mumbles in his chest, rubbing slowly lower until her hands can grasp the firm flesh of his glutes. 

“You are a meanie…”, he rumbles, no heat in it. 

She squeezes his flesh approvingly and gives it a light slap before she leans back a bit to look in his face. He is still smiling, his eyes shiny while his skin glows a bit. 

“You are ridiculous, if not disgustingly, attractive…” 

“Why thank you.”, he grins and takes her hand, leads her between bushes and around trees until they reach the street. 

“Coffee?”, he asks and holds her hand tighter, dragging her behind him like a misbehaving child.

There it is, the confidence she knows from pictures. 

Staring at the back of his head she sights. “Actually you owe me a full breakfast.”

“Okay!” is all he has to say and starts to fall in a lazy jog. 

What the fuck is wrong with this guy?!


End file.
